


Perfect

by bccalling



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam, First Time Bottoming, Late Series, M/M, Season/Series 11, Top Dean, Wincest - Freeform, mentions of bottom Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 06:33:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8239457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bccalling/pseuds/bccalling
Summary: Sam’s on his knees for Dean for the first time, and Dean feels like he’s dying in the most incredible way. He’s never felt anything like this.





	

Sam’s on his knees for Dean for the first time, and Dean feels like he’s dying in the most incredible way. He’s never felt anything like this.

It’s not the pleasure itself, exactly. That’s not so different. But there’s something behind it. Something intense and real and gritty and focused exclusively around the feel of his little brother’s mouth around him, making him fall apart. 

He’s never been with anyone he cares for the way he cares for Sam. Because there is no one else. No one else he’s ever loved so deeply and completely.

It’s wrong, Dean knows. They’re brothers. They’re not supposed to be lovers, too. But then, normal never really was their strong suit. And they’ve both got a one way ticket into the empty when they kick it anyway, so what’s the point in pretending?

Dean’s finished pretending. And so is Sam, if the way his throat opens up for Dean is any indication.

“Sam,” Dean gasps, fingers grasping gently at his little brother’s hair, “Sammy, _please_.”

Sam pulls off, replacing his mouth with his gigantic hand and stroking firm and steady as his eyes level on Dean’s, the touch of a smirk playing over his lips. “You ready for me, Dean?”

Dean feels like he shouldn’t be so turned on by the assertive tone in Sam’s voice that makes the question sound a hell of a lot more like a demand, but he is, and all he can muster is a tight nod as Sam smirks and ambles up from his knees.

They’ve never done this before. Not exactly this, at least. Every other time, it’s been Dean opening up for Sam, laying his body bare and letting his little brother take as he pleases.

But this time… this time it’s Sam.

Dean had been unsure at first. Something about the idea of Sam letting Dean take from him like that had felt to Dean like it must be taking advantage in some way. But Sam had insisted, whispered filthy words about how good Dean looked under him and how he wanted desperately to feel that same kind of pleasure, to hand over control and just let Dean take the wheel, make him feel good.

And so Dean had agreed.

And hell if he’s not really fucking glad he did.

Because it’s not long before Sam’s clinging to Dean, dull fingernails digging into Dean’s back as Sam struggles for breath and his eyes roll back in pleasure. He’s fucking desperate for it, and that desperation in his little brother’s eyes is making Dean crazy. Dean’s always loved the way it feels to have Sam inside him, taking him apart, and he wonders whether his own eyes would mirror what he’s seeing in Sam’s in this moment. 

Sam’s so responsive. So damn sensitive and malleable as Dean explores him like this for the first time, his hands tracing the hard cut of muscle on every fucking inch of his little brother. It should be familiar, he thinks distantly, as he dips down to catch Sam’s lips. But it feels different. There’s something about the way Sam’s responding to Dean’s every touch and whisper like this is all he’s ever wanted, and it makes Dean weak.

Sam was made for him, Dean decides, as he watches his little brother fall apart under him, in every way imaginable. They’re so good together. Sam soft and pliable under Dean’s needy hands as he gasps out his release and shudders against Dean’s chest. Dean wraps him up tight, following only a few moments later as Sam’s fingers trace his jaw, lips leaving behind a ghost of a kiss while Dean murmurs out Sam’s name over and over again.

As they come down from the incredible high of it all, Dean finds himself huddled in his little brother’s arms, chin tucked around Sam’s shoulder and face burrowed into his brother’s hair. This is familiar, he thinks fleetingly, recognizing immediately the protective cocoon Sam’s long arms shape around his lax body.

This is where Dean feels safest–wrapped up in Sam’s strong embrace as they breathe their way through the aftermath of their pleasure. The recognition forces a soft smile to Dean’s mouth. Some things, he thinks, won’t change with this new dynamic; with the knowledge that Sam’s happy to both give and receive in every possible way. That Dean’s not taking advantage, he’s sharing. _They’re_  sharing. Something beautiful and intense and so fucking right that Dean’s overwhelmed with the emotion of it all.

He feels Sam smile back, planting soft kisses along Dean’s hairline. “Perfect,” Dean hears Sam murmur, all awe and reverence as he breathes in the scent of his brother.

And Sam’s right. They are. Perfect. 


End file.
